


a gift from the heart

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Banter, Body Dysphoria, Chest Binding, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 23:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15617454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: cobra wakes up to a special present from yamato.





	a gift from the heart

The summer months are the hardest, sweating through the three layers he slips on every morning to pad out his frame. Cobra is used to it, though, a tank top under a t-shirt or button-down underneath whichever jacket he picks up on his way out of the door. Other people have voiced concern for how he layers up during the hottest months of the year and he always brushes it off like the heat never bothers him even though he has never been more miserable. The summer should be the perfect time to enjoy the nice weather and ride his motorcycle, but Cobra dreads being outside for any extended length of time in the heat.

Yamato notices more often than not, the palm of his hand pressed to Cobra’s forehead every time he starts to sweat, a disapproving frown on his face. A few summers ago, Cobra managed to give himself heat stroke and Yamato has been watching over him carefully ever since then, determined to get him in the shade or, preferably, back to the apartment the two of them share the moment Cobra starts to show noticeable discomfort.

For the most part, Cobra never minds. Wearing the layers makes him hyper aware of his body even though he should be able to ignore it when no one else can visibly see the ways in which his frame is wrong. Instead, he thinks too hard about how he looks and withdraws into himself, and the others always dance around him, wondering what they did to piss him off.

This afternoon will be no different. Tetsu is the one who suggests the ride down to the beach because Sannoh Rengokai has done so little together in the last few weeks that they deserve an afternoon to themselves. Everyone else moved plans to grant this request but Cobra finds himself curling beneath the sheets spread over his body, wondering if he can get away with not going at all. He doubts it, and Tetsu will be upset if he stays home, and what is Sannoh Rengokai if Cobra is not there with them? Still, he rolls around under the sheets and prays that Yamato rushes out without him even though he knows the odds are slim to none. When Yamato’s familiar heavy footfalls sound in the hallway, Cobra presses his face into the pillow.

“Cobra.” Yamato’s voice is low and deep, a warm hand ghosting down Cobra’s spine. “I won’t make you go if you don’t want to go, but at least sit up so I can show you something.”

The request has Cobra slowly lifting his head in interest, eyeing the gift bag dangling from Yamato’s hand. “What is that? My birthday’s not for months, Yamato.”

“I know that, but I don’t think I need an excuse to get my boyfriend a gift.” Yamato smiles and the word does more for Cobra than he wants to admit or think about, slowly sitting up in bed, the sheet hugged to his chest. It’s impossible to not sleep naked in this heat, and for the most part he hardly minds. Yamato never looks at him differently.

It’s other people’s gazes that make his skin itch in the worst ways.

Familiar dark eyes soften as they stare at him and Cobra squirms under the attention, not used to the way Yamato looks at him though he ought to be as the two of them have been together since they were children. When Mugen was still together, Kohaku and Tsukumo would tease them for being so close with one another that if they wanted to find one of them, they would inevitably stumble upon the pair. Cobra wonders if there could ever be distance between him and Yamato, or if Yamato would even want such a thing. Cobra has no inclination for it.

“You look so cute when you’re fresh outta bed,” Yamato tells him, dropping down on the edge of the bed, his hand running up Cobra’s leg through the sheet. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Fine, I guess. I just… You know.” Cobra hugs the sheet tighter against his chest.

The movement has Yamato frowning, his brows knitting together. “Yeah, I know. Tetsu gave us plenty of notice, though. Let me do a little shopping of my own.”

“Shopping?” Cobra eyes the bag once more. “What did you buy?”

Yamato hesitates. “If you don’t like ‘em, we can always take them back and get different ones, or maybe none at all. It’s really up to you, okay? And I’m sorry if this was me overstepping, but… I just guess I got tired of seeing you looking miserable all summer long.”

Cobra holds out his hands slowly. “Yamato, give me the bag.”

It takes a great effort for Yamato to pass him the bag and Cobra sits it on his lap, picking out a few layers of tissue paper before his fingers brush against an unfamiliar fabric. Carefully, he removes the contents of the bag, spreading them out on his lap, his heart stuck in his throat as he runs his fingers over one of them, the fabric a nude color that might just match his skin tone, the other two a black and an almost-orange, almost a Sannoh color.

“You can wear this one,” Yamato says, tapping the nude one, “and no one’ll know you have anything on from a distance. We won’t let anyone get close enough to bother you.”

“You bought me chest binders,” Cobra says slowly, carefully.

Yamato presses his hands between his knees, broad shoulders rolling in on themselves. “Yeah,” he says, and his voice is lower, throaty and raw. “I just… You don’t have to wear as many layers if you’ve got one on, right? Because you layer up to hide your chest. You can actually enjoy the summer with the rest of us without dying from the heat.”

“You didn’t have to do this. You shouldn’t have. The cost—” Cobra shakes his head at the thought; he’d looked at them once, and the cost was just too high for him to swing.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve been saving up. I didn’t even spend close to all my savings on them.” Yamato smiles at him, a hopeful little lift of his lips that makes Cobra’s heart beat faster. “I wanted to buy them for you. Just finally got off my ass and did it.”

“This much money… You shouldn’t have had to do it for me.” Cobra can feel the corners of his eyes stinging, the telltale sign the waterworks are on the way. And over such an important present, it feels wrong to cry. Yamato worked hard and the fact he funneled his own money into such a present is too much this early in the morning.

Yamato’s hands come to rest on top of his own, fingers brushing over his wrists. “It’s not about what I have to do or have not to do, or what I shouldn’t do. I don’t know. It’s about what I want to do for the man I love, right? I wanted to do this for you. Because I love you so much.”

“Idiot. That much money… You could have upgraded your bike. I wouldn’t have thought you loved me less.” Cobra drags his fingers under his eyes the moment his vision blurs, not wanting to get tear stains on the binders Yamato worked so hard to pick out for him. It couldn’t have been easy. Cobra was overwhelmed looking at them, and that was with knowing their purpose and how much he wanted them. “I’d never think something like that about you.”

When Yamato speaks, his voice is lower, gentler. Like he knows how close Cobra is to falling apart. “I know that. I didn’t do it to make you love me more, or because I thought you’d love me less. I did it because I love you, and I wanted to make you happy. Do you want to try one on? Then we can go out with the others and you don’t have to wear thirty layers.”

“Three,” Cobra corrects automatically.

“Okay, three. That’s still too many.” Yamato leans in, their foreheads bumping together softly. “Go ahead. Try it on. You and I both know how bad you wanted one.”

Yamato is the only person that Cobra feels comfortable around not covered in layers; the sheet falls when he leans in to steal a kiss and he doesn’t mind the way Yamato’s t-shirt presses against his skin. While the others came around later, Yamato has been here since the first day Cobra almost broke his arm for mistaking him for someone else, something else; he’d apologized profusely and corrected others when Cobra’s throat stopped up, rare occasions where he was overwhelmed and not quite able to speak up for himself.

There have never been moments of doubt or fear when it comes to Yamato. Even when they joined Mugen together, when they graduated high school together, when they celebrated graduation in Cobra’s bedroom, the moment he should have been the most afraid but found himself giving everything to the man in front of him and receiving in return.

And again, Yamato has proven that if Cobra can trust anyone in this world, if he can be weak even once and need to rely on someone, that someone will always be Yamato.

“Thank you.” Cobra kisses him again, and then once more. “Thank you so much.”

He slips off of the bed a moment later, picking out the nude binder to try on, taking a deep breath as he holds it up in front of him. Slipping it on is not difficult, because he’d done careful research to make sure he knew what he was doing and what to expect. All it takes it a bit of tugging the band back into place, fixing the fabric beneath his arms, and taking a few experimental deep breaths to make sure the binder fits properly before he’s ready to look at himself in the mirror.

His heart sticks in his throat when he turns to the side, staring at himself in the mirror, the way the binder makes his chest look flatter. A hand flies up to his mouth and he presses the heel of his hand against his lips to hold in the sob that tries to break free.

“Cobra?” Yamato is up and beside him a moment later, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. “Are you okay? Does it hurt? We can take it ba—”

“No. It doesn’t hurt. We don’t have to take it back.” Cobra’s hand moves up to his eyes, fingers quickly wiping the tears away. “It means a lot to me. Just… I’m huh— Happy, Yamato. Thank you so much. I’m  _ happy _ and I… I love it. Thank you for this gift.”

Yamato’s arms slip around his waist and he hugs Cobra from behind, hands rubbing over his stomach, chin coming to rest on his shoulder. It’s close and intimate and warm, which should be unbearable with how warm their apartment is. But this is a familiar warmth and Cobra settles into it, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets Yamato hold him, lets Yamato be his strength while he waits for his own strength to return.

“Just a t-shirt?” Yamato asks, lips pressed to the shell of Cobra’s ear.

Cobra hums, tilting his head back. “Yeah,” he finally murmurs with a quick nod. “Just a t-shirt.”

By the time they leave the apartment, Cobra has picked out a loose t-shirt; he’ll build up to tighter ones over time, but it’s just one shirt and that feels like a victory for him. He doesn’t miss the way Yamato looks at him, all warms eyes and a gentle smile, self-satisfied just a little but not in a way that makes Cobra want to smack the back of his head. He’s just happy that Cobra is happy, happy with himself that he was able to do something meaningful.

Cobra still sticks his tongue out at him as he straddles his bike. “Put your eyes back in your head or you’ll run them over when we start to meet the others.”

“Maybe, but it’d be worth it.” Yamato beams at him, all teeth and sunshine brighter than the sun beaming down on them. “I love you, Cobra.”

“I love you, too, Yamato.” Cobra revs the engine just to hear it purr. “Let’s ride.”


End file.
